


Drip Drip Drop

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Duck Duck Grey Duck is a Real Thing Dammit, M/M, Meant to be light and cute, au - modern day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-23
Updated: 2009-09-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 22:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: Sometimes Merlin wondered if the only reason his family kept him around was to do all the work that theydidn't want to do.  He'd been actually fairly excited for this family reunion thing.  Meeting cousins he hadn't known he had was pretty interesting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 9/23/09. I don't think this was posted anywhere.

Sometimes Merlin wondered if the only reason his family kept him around was to do all the work that they _didn't want to do_. He'd been actually fairly excited for this family reunion thing. Meeting cousins he hadn't known he had was pretty interesting.

That, and it was a valid excuse to be pointedly not studying for his MCATs. When he'd told his professors that, no, he wouldn't have any sort of progress update, because, you see, he was going to a once-a-decade family reunion, and his grandmother _was_ getting awfully old, they all gave him nods or smiles and a free bye. It was great.

Being surrounded by at least twenty screaming toddlers might have actually turned out to be less fun than studying. Possibly.

His mother had smiled, patted his shoulder, and said, "Thanks, sweetheart, your grandmother and I really appreciate it. It's hard to organize these sorts of events, and we know how good you are with children." Merlin was bad at arguing with his mother.

So here he was, attempting to keep "control" of a swarm of children, sitting under the trees near a small, backyard swing set and slide, watching the "adult" members of his family mill around one another, talking and enjoying themselves. And _they_ got alcohol.

Fortunately for everyone involved, the children were pretty content running around chasing one another in a non-violent fashion, and not requiring a whole lot of Merlin's direction outside of, "No, Carter, please don't pull Olivia's hair," and, "Kelli! Don't push Colton down the slide!"

Merlin had just gotten roped into setting up for a game of drip, drip, drop -- it was nearly 95 degrees outside, after all -- and was getting a pitcher and pail ready with lukewarm water, when a voice asked, "What exactly are you doing?"

Glancing up from where he had been crouched, one finger under the outdoor faucet to adjust the temperature to something less startling, at the same time attempting to keep his gaze on the children who had been in the process of forming a circle on the lawn, Merlin noticed another young man that he didn't recognize -- though, to be fair, he recognized about four of his cousins, total; it's what came from living in the middle of nowhere -- standing near him with his arms crossed. "Filling a bucket?" Merlin guessed, eventually, when he was done reassuring himself that there was really no way he would know who on earth he was talking to.

"I can see that," the man said before dropping into a crouch at Merlin's level. "I was wondering what on earth _for_."

Merlin gestured toward the circle of children across the lawn. "Leah decided she wanted to play drip, drip, drop, and so she of course convinced the rest of her troops to agree, and directed me very sternly to bring her the water." He smiled a little, the water finally at a decent temperature to begin filling the bucket.

"Ah," the man said. He seemed to be considering for a moment before continuing, "Are you the babysitter?"

"No," Merlin replied, laughing a bit before holding out his hand. "I'm Merlin Emrys, Hunith's son," he said, pointing across the lawn to where his mother was laughing with people he could only assume he was somehow related to. "I'm not getting anything for this, since mom decided it was only fair that I help out. Not that, you know, she expects anyone else to." He gave the man a questioning look.

"I'm Arthur," the man said, "and my dad's attempting to date Lydia Thomas, who is somewhere in that general direction. I'm pretty sure we're here on some sort of getting-in-good-graces scheme." Arthur shrugged briefly. "It's a little awkward, what with everyone asking me whose son I am."

"Well, if makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure I know about as many people here as you, unless you count the toddlers, who I was sort of forced to get to know." Merlin turned off the water as the bucket filled, dropped the pitcher in to float on the top and stood. "You're welcome to help me entertain a bunch of four-year-olds if you want to try and make an escape for a bit."

Arthur shrugged. "I can't say I know what drip, drip, drop is, but if four-year-olds understand it, it can't be that bad."

Picking up the bucket -- more like levering it into the air, and then attempting to move, because _damn_ was water heavy -- Merlin attempted to explain the game while walking back across the lawn. "If you've ever played duck-duck-goose, or duck-duck-grey duck, it's basically the same thing, only with water. The kid that's it gets a pitcher of water and walks around the circle, dribbling a little on everyone's head and saying "drip" until they get to the person they want to tag, and then they dump the rest of the pitcher on them and say "drop." Then the tagged person chases the tagger around the circle. The tagger has to get back to the tagged person's spot and sit down without getting caught, and then the tagged person it is."

"I have absolutely never heard of that," Arthur said, "but duck-duck-goose is pretty standard." He smirked. "I think I'll catch on fast enough."

"But didn't I just say?" Merlin asked, smiling back as he set the bucket down on the lawn. "The point is _not_ to get caught."

"Haha," Arthur said, though his grin didn't fade. "You're very clever. I think I'll go first."

Three drenchings and some grass stains at the fault of skidding around the circle later, Merlin was not quite so unhappy with his little job. Of course, that was only because he was no longer hot and sweaty, thanks to the water. It had nothing to do with Arthur's ability to have just as much energy as the kids in the circle, which made Merlin's job a whole lot easier.

Not at all.


End file.
